


A Day Traditionally Spent

by Scribe



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe/pseuds/Scribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt "Christmas at the Avengers Mansion".</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day Traditionally Spent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria/gifts).



Natasha is a little wary about Christmas, because Tony for some unfathomable reason likes to wear his issues on the outside and the way he gets kind of bitterly manic around the beginning of December is like flashing arrows and a sign that says, "this is not a good time of year!" It's probably not a great time of year for any of them, but Tony is the only one who's likely to deal with his discomfort by throwing a five hundred person party that ends in police intervention and three weeks of tabloid covers. 

So she's pleasantly surprised when Christmas turns out to be just them. Tony goes a little overboard on the decorations and the food and the gifts and somehow comes up with a tree large enough that it actually takes air support to decorate, but that counts as restraint in the Stark household. By afternoon they're mostly just sprawling around in a mess of wrapping paper hoping that no one decides to invade the city because they are all seriously too full to fight.

"All right, drink up," says Tony, handing Clint a glass of something alarmingly orange. They're playing ( _still_ playing) a game of get-Clint-to-miss-at-pinning-the-tail-on-the-donkey. Tony's strategies thus far have involved a blindfold, extended spinning, and increasing amounts of alcohol. 

"Who do you think's going to get bored first?" asks Bruce idly. He's beside her on the couch, with Pepper sitting sideways next to him, her bare feet tucked under his thigh.

"Neither," says Natasha. "It's a competition now." She doesn't voice the second half of her comment, about the competition being between Tony's alcoholism and Clint's pride, because no one wants to hear that on Christmas even if she doesn't mean it to be insulting.

"Maybe if-" starts Pepper, and is interrupted by a load moan from Steve. Everybody swivels in synch to look at the other side of the room, like the audience at a tennis match.

Thor's decided that his Christmas present to the team is giving everyone backrubs. A bright turquoise massage table had appeared overnight (how? _why?_ ), complete with flower-pattered removable headrest so the massagee can lie face-down. Steve volunteered to go first, perhaps more to stop there being an awkward silence after Thor offered than anything, but he certainly seems to be enjoying himself now. She doesn't blame Pepper for getting distracted. They look a bit like the two minutes of bad plot set-up before the porn, especially because Steve has his shirt off and keeps making noises.

"All right, do your worst!" says Clint, apparently having chugged his drink while they were all staring. He's starting to get a little slurry, but his hands are still rock steady. Tony ties the blindfold back on and spins Clint for long enough that Bruce murmurs to her,

"He'll just undo all his hard work if Clint throws up the alcohol."

"He won't," she replies, "but I hope he's not counting on me to baby him tomorrow when he wishes he had."

Steve moans again and Clint whoops over another triumph; everyone's heads turn back and forth. Clint is doing a slightly off-balance victory dance.

"Okay, what if we forget spinning, I let you stand still in front of the target, and I blow you while you try to aim," says Tony, hooking fingers into Clint's belt loops. "I've been told I'm very distracting."

Natasha happens to know that this is a useless tactic; Clint is, if anything, steadier during sex. If Tony blew him and _then_ set him at a target his aim would be as off as it ever got, but she elects not to share this information.

Clint just elbows him and says, "Ugh, get off."

"Well, there's a good chance I would, but I was talking about getting _you_ off."

"Tony, leave the poor man alone," calls Pepper, not looking away from where she's still watching the massage table. Natasha wonders if someone reinforced it. Given Thor and Steve, it's a miracle that the whole set-up hasn't collapsed.

"I'd rather risk another drink," Clint says, ignoring Tony's pout. "Who knows where your mouth has been?"

"I believe all of us do," Thor puts in. "Tony chronicles his deeds with the skill of a great storyteller."

Clint snorts with laughter. Next to her on the couch Bruce puts his head in his hands and Pepper pats him on the shoulder, seeming amused and not at all embarrassed. Years of Tony probably beat the embarrassment right out of you.

"I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered," says Tony, going to mix another drink for Clint.

"I meant no insult," says Thor with a frown. "Storytelling is an important and difficult art." Natasha doesn't buy it for a second. Thor does a pretty good innocent face, but Natasha is the queen of innocent faces, and there's definitely a bit of mischief behind that entire your-strange-culture-confuses-me act. She grins at him and he gives her a big wink in return.

"So, how was my massage?" he asks brightly, patting Steve on the back. Steve gives a kind of muffled groan and flails his hands a little, but stays put. Thor pats him again.

"I am told you should remain lying down afterward until you feel you can move," he says. Steve makes a vaguely assenting noise.

"Need a hand, Steve?" calls Pepper.

"Or a spatula?" Bruce says.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Tony cries. "If I could redirect your attention from the admittedly very distracting prone form of Captain America over there, our very on Hawkeye is about to attempt a great feat! Drum roll please!"

He doesn't get a very enthusiastic drum roll; this has been going on for quite a while. Undeterred, he blindfolds Clint, spins him, and sets him loose to pin the ratty paper tail about half an inch away from the tight cluster of earlier marks.

"VICTORY!" shouts Tony, and Clint rips his blindfold off in disbelief.

"What are you talking about? That's completely on target!"

"It is absolutely one hundred percent not!"

"The point of the game is to pin the tail on the donkey's ass, right? Tail, ass. I don't see the problem."

"No, no, you're definitely edging into donkey thigh territory."

Natasha tunes them out and watches Steve peel himself off the massage table instead. He has a red ring of pillow creases around his face and he looks kind of glazed, like his posture is on the verge of just melting into a puddle.

"That's a good look for you, Cap," says Clint, distracted from his argument for a moment. "Kind of…smushed." 

Steve blushes a bit and rubs at his face, shooting an involuntary little look at Natasha. Watching Steve try to deal with her is fun; he's a little scared of her, but he likes her, but he's trying really hard to jump seventy years of gender politics, and all the instincts pull him in different directions. Natasha has a bet with herself that he's going to try to resolve it by courting her really, really respectfully, which should be interesting. She doesn't mind that he's scared of her. Nearly everyone in the room is, at least a little bit.

"You missed my triumph!" says Tony, coming over and pressing one of the neon orange mystery drinks into Steve's hand. It must be part of his completely unsecret mission to find a drink too strong for Steve's super solider liver, which explains why Clint gave in so fast. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, triumph," says Clint.

"Complete and utter victory. JARVIS, can we have some celebratory Christmas music in here?"

Natasha tunes them out again and walks over to Thor.

"Can I be next, or do you want a break?" she asks.

"No, no, I would be honored," says Thor, gesturing her grandly over to the table. She takes the knife out from under her shirt and catches Clint's eye for a split second, almost without conscious thought, before she lies down- he's fine, he has eyes on the room. He'd shot her the same glance before he let Tony blindfold him the first time.

Thor runs his hands over her back a few times, then goes right for the spot under her shoulder blades that's always tense at the end of the day and digs in with his thumbs. He's really good at it. Natasha wonders if it's an Asgard thing or if he's been practicing on someone.

"Jane's not joining us?" she asks, and then adds, "mm, that's perfect." Just because she can stay silent through pleasure or pain doesn't mean she has to, and massages are always better with feedback.

"Not today, although she would have been welcome," says Thor. "She tells me that Christmas is a day traditionally spent with one's family."

"And you didn't go with her?"

"No," says Thor. "Like Jane says."

He stops there, but she can hear what he doesn't go on to say. Family isn't an easy word for any of them, and Thor still loves the brother that Natasha is never, ever going to forgive for what he did to Clint. There are moments when all she wants in the world is Loki and Barney Barton in a room and a gun in her hand.

She puts the thought aside, though, focuses instead on the present. She can only see a small circle of carpet beneath her, but she marks everyone's presence by their voices in the renewed argument across the room- _Get me a bow and I'll pin your tail on just fine! What, are you secretly farsighted or something? Who attacks someone by hand with a pin, anyway? This is why we have a no weapons in the living room rule. Guys! I thought you were the world's best marksman. It's cold out there, can we not put a hole in the wall?_

Natasha smiles down at her little circle of carpet. Thor has the heels of his hands on the very lowest part of her back, pressing steadily toward her feet and stretching what feels like years of compression out of her spine. Part of what he didn't say was Loki, but the other part is that Christmas is for family and they're all here, listening to Tony's awful holiday playlist and arguing and eating too much.

Thor moves to her shoulders and she wiggles them down against the table to give him more room, making another positive reinforcement noise. People don't touch her very much. It's nice, Thor's hands and everyone's voices and not keeping a lookout for a little while.

"Besides," says Thor cheerfully, "Jane will come for the New Year. Tony says we are having the biggest party New York has ever seen."


End file.
